


Never Say it Out Loud

by autoeuphoric (FreezingRayne)



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Sleepy Sex, haru is a cuddlemonster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:31:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingRayne/pseuds/autoeuphoric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be difficult to sleep through Haru tracing cold fingers over Rin's ribs and rubbing his boner against his hip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Say it Out Loud

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MATSUOKA!! 
> 
> This is not a birthday fic _per se_ , but Rin does get laid in it so...you're welcome Rin-Rin. 
> 
> Fits in with "Home is Where They Know You," but you don't have to have read that to get the idea. Mostly just porn.

The light on Rin’s phone is blinking, hard and red in the thinning early-morning darkness. He can see still see it through his closed eyelids, and it’s annoying, especially since he knows exactly who the texts are from. 

Heavy with sleep, he forces himself across the futon, belly down, like a shark struggling on a beach. He grabs hold of the phone and buries himself back into the blankets because _fuck_ it’s chilly. 

As he suspected. _Senpai, are you okay?_ And earlier, _Rin-senpai, are you coming back tonight_? Nitori is like a combination mom and girlfriend. And that’s kind of a douchey thing to think. Rin's been trying to cut down on the douchiness in his life. Slowly. It’s a process. 

A grouchy mumble. “You let the cold in.” 

“It’s your house. Your cold.” Rin moves toward the long, smooth line of warmth that is Haru in the dark. Icy toes brush his calf, just as a warm mouth touches his neck. If Nitori is his mother/girlfriend, then what is Haru? His friend/rival/guy who occasionally fucks him in the ass? That’s a hell of a title. 

Rin had not registered the time when he had checked his phone, but it can’t be any later than five, still dark and quiet out on the street. Haru’s house is stuck firmly enough in the suburbs that nothing really starts to happen until well into the morning. In Sydney, his dorm room had faced a church. It took nearly a month before the bells stopped waking him, booming into his dreams as a car crash or runaway train, or a funeral drum.

Haru’s breathing goes deep and even again, and Rin falls back into a hazy sleep. In his dream, it’s raining. He’s standing on a beach, looking out at the grey ocean, feeling the drops sliding down the back of his neck. People are there with him, but he can’t see their faces. 

He wakes to Haru pressed up against him, licking his neck where the raindrops had been. It’s raining in the real world too—grey and drizzly, a bright red autumn leaf stuck to the window like a bloody handprint. 

“Are you awake?” Haru asks softly, talking into his shoulder. 

Rin grunts. “I am now.” It would be difficult to sleep through Haru tracing cold fingers over his ribs and rubbing his boner against his hip. Last night they had pulled off each other’s clothes and made out some, but they had been too tired to do much more than that. Haru, it seems, wants to make up for lost time. 

“You were talking in your sleep,” he says, fingers finding and pressing down on a bruise on Rin’s back.

Rin hisses in a sharp breath. “What was I saying?”

“I’m not sure. I think it was in English.” 

“Yeah, your English is terrible.” 

Haru presses harder on the bruise. 

“Ouch! Sadist.” 

Haru laughs, more breath than sound. He strokes Rin’s cock with one hand, the other groping for the table beside the bed. For a second Rin thinks he’s trying to get his phone, but instead he grabs at a sticky, nearly-empty bottle.

“Shit. Now?” 

“You have something else to do?” 

“Fuck no.” Rin rolls toward Haru, kissing him, pressing against the familiar warmth of his body. He would never say it out loud, but this is probably Rin’s favorite part of all of this—waking up warm and sleepy, only needing to reach across the bed to have Haru right here. 

Haru’s whole body tenses as Rin bites at tiny spot of skin on his throat, licking over it afterward. His breaths go rough with impatience.

“This way.” Haru puts pressure on Rin’s shoulder, turning him back around to face the window, sliding up behind him. Rin hears the sound of the bottle being opened, and then cold, slick fingers send a chill through him.

They had only started doing this a few weeks ago, when Rin had finally worked up the nerve to ask Haru to do it. Before that he had just spent months jerking off over the idea, fantasizing about it but never being able to ask for what he wanted. The thought of being that helpless, of being pinned and penetrated left him feeling shaky and overheated, sick with the knowledge that he wanted it so badly. 

The first time had involved a lot of cursing and about half a bottle of lube, and it had hurt like a bitch. Rin hadn’t been able to stay hard enough to come. He had been sore and achey for about a day afterward, but the next time he’d seen Haru they had done it again. And again. Their technique has since drastically improved.

“Oh, fuck.” Rin reaches back to grab Haru by the hip as fingers finally get where they’re going. A tiny shock of pleasure ripples through him, making him tense and shaky, desperate for more. He wants to beg Haru to fuck him. Instead he says, “S’really stupid.” 

Haru makes a questioning noise. 

“You know. Putting that there.” 

“Putting what where?” His voice is pure innocence, but he presses deeper, making Rin gasp. 

“You know what…what I mean, you dick. Just seems like—.” He clutches at the sheets as Haru hooks an arm under his leg, cock pressing up against him.  
“Like if biologically guys are only supposed to fuck girls—.” He forces himself to relax as Haru eases inside him—if he’s tense, it hurts twice as much. “T-Then it seems really stupid to put that, you know—.” 

“Out of reach?” Haru says against his ear. 

“Y-Yeah.” Rin bites down on a gasp. “Fucking nature.” 

He feels the vibration of Haru laughing against his back. Rin has a tendency to babble when they do this—it calms him down. But then his body adjusts and he doesn’t really have the breath for anymore stupid speculation, because Haru is moving, fucking him hard enough that he has to brace one hand against the edge of the futon to keep from being shoved off. And that’s fine and all, but it means he doesn’t have a free hand to get himself off with. Some of the stuff he had read on the internet said some guys can come just from taking it in the ass, but so far Rin is not one of them. 

Haru seems to realize this might not be the ideal orientation of their bodies, because suddenly he’s pulling out, and pulling Rin backward, until he’s crouched awkwardly on the futon, feeling uncomfortably stretched and open.

“What the fuck?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder. Haru’s eyes are huge, black pupils nearly swallowing the blue, like fucking Rin is getting him high. He grabs Rin by the hips and pulls him back, until he’s sinking down on his cock. 

“Ah! Be fucking careful, god damn—.” Rin arches his back. “ _Fuck_ , that’s—.” 

Haru’s response is to bite down on his neck, and although Rin does not exactly have a fetish for it like Haru seems to, it still sends a hot jolt straight through him. He adjusts his hips until the angle does not feel quite so precarious. He takes a few gasping breaths. “Okay. Okay, go.” 

Haru grunts incoherently in response, fucking him in rocking, upward thrusts that make Rin feel totally out of control. “Fuck.” His legs shake with the effort of holding himself up, but it feels so, so good. 

Eventually Rin ends up on his back, his legs hitched up. Haru has his eyes closed, teeth leaving little square indentations in his bottom lip. His hair is a feathery mess, stuck to his forehead in clumps, and when it hits him his mouth goes slack and he lets out one soft, broken noise. The rain paints watery light over his cheek and neck. 

He goes still for a few seconds, taking deep, gasping breaths, like he has just broken the surface at the end of a race. Rin watches the tiny twitches of muscles in his face, the dark lazy blue when he opens his eyes.

Rin pulls his legs out of Haru’s grip, because they’re starting to go to sleep. C’mon.” He twitches his hips. “I’m not done.” 

Haru’s mouth pulls up at the corner and he wraps a slick hand around Rin’s cock, moving his wrist in quick, twisting strokes. The world pulls in tight around them, and Rin digs his heel into the futon as he comes, body trembling with relief. 

“Holy shit,” he says, as Haru pulls out and flops back beside him. “If I can’t swim today, it’s your fault.” 

Haru licks along the shell of his ear. Rin can _feel_ the smugness coming off of him. Now that they’re done, he’s cold again—clammy with sweat and sticky with, well, everything—but he still feels too good to care. It's a Sunday, and practice is not for another five hours. They have time. 

It’s a good day.


End file.
